Rose Girone, recognized as one of the oldest Holocaust survivors and a stalwart of Holocaust remembrance, has passed away at 113 years old. Her passing was confirmed by the Claims Conference, an organization in New York focused on Jewish material claims against Germany.
“Rose was a pillar of resilience,” stated Greg Schneider, the executive vice president of the Claims Conference. “We must continue to honor her memory by perpetuating the stories of Holocaust survivors.” Girone was born on January 13, 1912, in Janow, Poland, and relocated with her family to Hamburg, Germany at the age of six. She reflected on her life plans in a 1996 interview for the USC Shoah Foundation, stating that any ambitions she had were halted with Hitler’s rise to power in 1933.
As of a study last year by the Claims Conference, only around 245,000 Holocaust survivors are still living across over 90 countries, with their numbers decreasing rapidly due to old age and health issues. Sadly, the history of six million Jewish Europeans and other minorities murdered during the Holocaust leaves a haunting legacy.
“This loss underscores the importance of continuing to share the Holocaust’s critical lessons,” emphasized Schneider. “As we move from living memory to historical record, these lessons must never be forgotten, especially now.” Girone married Julius Mannheim in 1937 in an arranged marriage. While nine months pregnant in Breslau, now Wroclaw, Poland, her husband was seized by the Nazis and taken to Buchenwald. Shockingly, a Nazi officer considered taking her as well but relented due to her pregnancy.
Left behind after further family detentions, Girone gave birth to her daughter Reha in 1938. With ingenuity and resilience, she obtained Chinese visas from relatives in London, facilitating her husband’s release. The family set sail from Genoa, Italy, on a ship to Shanghai, controlled by Japan, carrying little more than clothing and linens. Her husband initially engaged in trading secondhand goods, eventually accumulating enough to start a taxi business while Girone knitted sweaters for income.
By 1941, Jewish refugees, including her family, were forcibly cramped into a ghetto under horrific conditions. Her father-in-law, who joined them before World War II erupted, succumbed to illness, leaving them in a brutal survival mode. Under the tyranny of a self-declared “King of the Jews,” life became a precarious struggle. “They committed unspeakable acts,” she recalled of the Japanese forces roaming their streets. The harsh realities were compounded by restricted information flow, with prohibited British radios stifling communication.
With the war’s conclusion, they reconnected with family in the U.S., eventually migrating to San Francisco in 1947 with a mere $80 cleverly sewn into buttons. Finally settling in New York City later that year, Girone opened a knitting store with her mother’s support. Heartwarming reunions, such as with her brother who had attained U.S. citizenship through military service, marked new beginnings.
Following her divorce from Mannheim, destiny ushered Jack Girone into her life in 1968. They wed within a year, and he remained her partner until his death in 1990. When asked in 1996 about her legacy for her descendants, she reflected, “Nothing is ever so dire that good cannot emerge from it.”
